Legends
by Maister
Summary: Legends are told through the generations. The Legend of the Painted Lady told to Fire Nation children to teach about the true meaning of sacrifice. The Legend of the Blue Spirit told to encourage children of the Earth Kingdom to fight injustice. Two legends from two completely different nations find themselves facing each other in the dead of night.
1. Chapter 1: The Blue Spirit

Chapter 1: The Blue Spirit

Legend of the Blue Spirit is shrouded in mystery. Never the less the story is still told to children as a bedtime story. The story is said to have begun on a night where the moon was just beginning its waning cycle.

XxxXxxX

"Father! Father!" he yelled as three people dressed in black armour, wielding swords, surrounded him. Outside of his room he could hear the clash of metal against metal and furniture being thrown. The three swordsmen began to circle him, slowly advancing. He looked to his left beyond one of the men's head at his Dao swords, mounting on the wall above his desk. The man followed his gaze, quickly realizing the intent. Before the swordsman could react, he dropped down and rolled underneath towards the swords hanging on the wall.

With the Dao swords in his hands, he whipped around to face the three swordsman. His eyes widened as he heard a shriek down the hall. He lunged towards the swordsman in front of him, the butt of the Dao swords hitting the middle of his throat. A gargle, barely audible, was heard. The swordsman was knocked out cold. He then pivoted to his right, refacing the swordsman who stood between him and his Dao swords. He dropped down, spun, and tripped the man, before twirling back up to face the last swordsman. The last swordsman looked at him before charging. He pivoted, barely missing the blade the swordsman was swinging, and raised his Dao swords. The blade of his Dao swords were aimed at the base of the swordsman's neck, with the intent of injury. He at the last second turned the sword, with the butt of the sword, to connect with the base of the neck. His accuracy was perfect. The swordsman's charge gained even more momentum causing the swordsman to crash into his desk, the desk where his Dao swords hung, before losing consciousness. The swordsman he had tripped just a moment ago cleared the stars from his vision. Before the swordsman could even survey his surroundings, iron metal, from the butt of the Dao swords, connected with his temple. He fell backwards with a loud thud.

Having defeat the attacking swordsmen, he rushed to his door. Sliding the door open he glanced, to his left then his right, before stepping out into the hallway. He heard another shriek and he, with one Dao sword in each hand, sprinted his way towards the courtyard.

He skidded to a complete halt at the scene before him. It seemed so surreal, his father, a highly respected swordsman, brought to his knees. His father, in his night robes, was bloody and bruised. The bags underneath his father's eyes became even more apparent as the skin become blue and black. He glanced across his father to his mother. She was in her night robes also, but they were stained with dirt and what looked to be drying blood. His mother's hands were bound behind her. Her eyes full of fear as she looked at his father.

"Found the bitch," a swordsman said, as he dragged someone into the courtyard. His anger rose, bringing him back to the reality happening in the courtyard. The swordsman shoved his sister onto the ground. Her hands bounded behind her, similar to his mother. His sister had streams of tears running down her face. Her night robes were ripped open, exposing her breast bindings. He quivered in anger.

_How dare they touch my mother and sister in that manner!_

He lunged at the swordsman. He was so full of anger he did not see the swordsman pull a dart. He was so full of anger he did not see the swordsman throw the dart, aiming for him. He was so full of anger he did not even know he had slipped into unconsciousness.

When he came to, it was total blackness. He was blindfolded. He tried to move but found he couldn't. He was tied to one of the many trees in the courtyard. He struggled, but the dart tainted with a knockout drug, slowed his movements. It made his limbs heavy.

"Do you, even with death at your door, still support Earth King Zhu Yunwen?" a voice said. He recognized the voice, it belonged to…it belonged to…

"Yes," his father said with confidence.

"Then you shall meet the Grim Reaper himself," spat the voice. Before he could even think, he heard the sound of metal slicing through skin. His mother wailed, the sound piercing into the night sky. The sounds of his sister's sobs became more apparent. Then he heard a slap, and the sobs stopped, before the sobs continued quietly.

"Dispose of the rest…wait," the voice commanded. He heard heavy footsteps. "Bring her to the traitor's room."

"Yes, commander," echoed the swordsmen. He judged from the sudden shuffle of footsteps, there were around fifteen people. His sister's sobs became hiccups and then the hiccups faded as she was dragged away. He strained his ears, he heard the clank of metal armour and then his sister's shriek. His mother's wails turned into quiet sobs. It finally dawned on him what became of his sister.

Time seemed to pass slowly. His mother's sobs echoed into the night. His wrists began to ache, the ropes digging into his flesh. Several footsteps came into the courtyard.

"Now you can dispose of them," the voice said. He heard the courtyard doors and slam shut. A few seconds later, he heard the swordsman drag his sister back into the courtyard. She was sobbing.

"Ok boys," one of the swordsman said, he must be the commander, "let's move."

He felt someone untie the blindfold. The sight laid before him brought his anger out. His sister's night robes now had bloodstains, her breast bindings had obviously been taken off and then quickly rewrapped. Her virtu taken by the person who killed their father, who was still laying in his own blood.

XxxXxxX

"Pull harder you scum," shouted the guard, "or this whip with be just the beginning of your pain!"

_Today will be the last time you do that to me_. He pulled leather rope, attached to a block of stone, it moved just a few centimeters. The guard cracked the whip almost connecting with his back.

"You're weak," spat the guard, "just like your father."

He tried to control his anger, but it nearly exploded.

"Stop," whispered someone next to him, "remember about tonight?" He looked over. The man next to him, nameless, was the one to keep him out of alot of trouble. He swallowed his anger and gritted his teeth. He continued to pull the block of stone, moving it centimeter by centimeter. By the end, his legs, back, and arm muscles ached with pain and fatigue.

"Hey," the nameless man said as he handed him a waterskin, "this might help for tonight."

_Yes,_ he thought. _Tonight, I escape this hell hole._

"Remember," the man continued, "if I don't...If I don't...I want you to tell my father I tried."

He nodded.

XxxXxxX

The barks of the dogs were right behind them. They both ran, destroying brush and having branches whack them from all directions. They could hear the guards shouting, still they continued. They came upon the river.

"Shit," he hissed. The river had risen from the rain, threatening to overflow the banks. The river's currents were moving too fast to safely navigate.

"Quick," the nameless man said, "the raft is here somewhere."

They both searched the nearby brush desperately looking for the makeshift raft. The raft they both risked so much to make. The raft took several weeks to assemble. They both had to trade their ration of bread for days just to get their hands on a few pieces of sturdy wood. The rope was took much more than bread. They nearly starved by the time all the materials were collected.

Uncovering the raft, they moved to the river. The guards were closing in, they could hear the yelling and the barks of the dogs. They pushed off the riverbank, their hopes rising. They had only gone a few meters down the river when an arrow whizzed by and sunk itself into the nameless man's right arm. Just as quickly, another flew by and dug itself into the man's left leg.

XxxXxxX

"Don't. It's too late."

_ NO! We couldn't have made it all this way to have you die here!_

"It's ok," the nameless man whispered, "I didn't die in that hell hole, that's all that matters."

"No, you can't just die here. I don't even know your name."

"My name is-" the man didn't even finished, he was already gone.

XxxXxxX

He walked down the busy market of the lower Second Wall. Vendors trying to attract buyers to their wares. He just tipped his hat down to cover his eyes even more. Just trying to avoid unnecessary human contact.

"Young man," one of the vendors yelled to him, "are you in need of a mask?"

He looked up and raised his eyebrows.

"For the festival tonight," the vendor said, he was an old man. Gray hairs and signs of balding were apparent. The vendor had deep laugh lines but also deep crows' feet near his eyes, signs of hardship. "A young man such as yourself needs one in order to get the ladies," the old man continued.

"Do you have a Blue Spirit mask then," he asked. The old man's smile fell and sadness took over in his eyes.

"Young man," the happiness gone from the old man's voice, "my humble home is located in the lower Third Ring. Would you like to come for some tea?"

He nodded. The old man began to pack his wares into the worn out wickered basket at his feet.

XxxXxxX

The full moon illuminated the mask. A demon's face, dark blue with a haunting smile. Two large pointy teeth curving out, as a menacing warning, lined its haunting smile. The demon's intimidating eyes were rimmed with white paint. It was ugly to look at. The old vendor, now a surrogate father to him, gave it to him, _it is something my son would have wanted you to have_, he had said.

Tonight, he would use the mask to give justice to those, like the old vendor's son, who could not afford to pay their way through the corrupt system. Tonight, he would instill fear to those who supported the new Earth King Zhu Di. The man who murder many to sit on the throne. The man who took away innocence from those who were defenseless. The man who had destroyed his family. He climbed out of the window and onto the tiled rooftop. He pulled the mask over his face, assuming the role he had created for himself. He looked up to the moon, closed his eyes, and took a breath. _This isn't revenge for what happened to me Father, please watch over me with pride._

He sprinted along the rooftop and leaped to the next rooftop without any sound, making his way up to the Upper Ring.

XxxXxxX

"Please! Please," the man said with fear, "take anything you want! Take even my daughter!" A little girl was pushed towards him. His wife looked at her husband with disbelief. Tears began to leak out of her eyes. He was disgusted.

_How can you offer your daughter just like that, _he thought to himself, _you don't deserve to be a father! _He walked forward, Dao swords drawn, towards the man, completely ignoring the quivering little girl. The wife tried to stop her tears and suppress her sobs.

"I saw what you did to those cabbage merchants today," he whispered, threatenly, "You are to return their daughters tomorrow," he raised one of his blades to the man's neck, "Or your daughter will not be the only thing you lose." The man's wife stopped silently sobbing. She looked to the man she called her husband and from the man wearing the Blue Spirit mask in horror. The man nodded, fear in his eyes.

"Y-e-s," the man quivered out, "a-an-anything you w-wa-want Bl-Blue S-Sp-Spirit."

"Remember, or I'll be back before you can even blink," the Blue Spirit hissed.

He made his way to the window. He stopped, whisked around and walked back to the family shaking in the corner. He grabbed the bag of gold coin sitting on the drawers. The family watched in silent. Before they could even blink, the Blue Spirit was gone. Vanished.

XxxXxxX

The commotion in the market was to early for his liking. He groaned.

"My daughter," a mother yelled out, "You're safe! Thank the heavens!" Tears of joy were not far behind. He just wanted to sleep in peace. The noise already woke him up. He sighed. _Well now I can't sleep peacefully._ He slipped the black clothings and the blue mask inside a worn wickered basket, and slid it underneath his bed. He hung his Dao swords in the back of his closet, behind all the tea serving aprons and uniforms.

He made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. The aroma of jasmine tea filled his senses.

"What a way to wake up huh?"

"Why do you say that" the old vendor asked knowingly, "Today is a joyous day! The cabbage vendor was reunited with her daughter."

He responded with only a nod.

"You know there are rumors spreading like fire that she was only returned because the Blue Spirit paid a visit" the old vendor continued, "The Blue Spirit sure is becoming popular."

He responded with another nod, "You know, I would actually like to drink some of that tea," he said pointing to the teapot in the old vendor's hands. The old vendor came over and poured him a cup of tea.

"You're probably hunger from all that running around," he said, "have this. The baker's wife thought you were getting to thin." The old vendor set a plate in front of him. He smiled. A simple gesture, like sharing a loaf of bread, brought him some sort of happiness.

XxxXxxX

The breeze gently rustled his hair. The night, silent, except for the occasional baby crying, was music to his ears. _Tonight I shall seek justice once more, _he thought to himself. He slipped on the blue mask, before setting off into a stealth run across the rooftops towards the Upper Ring.

XxxXxxX

Legend of the Blue Spirit is shrouded in mystery. Never the less the story is still told to children as a bedtime story. The story is said to have begun on a night where the moon was just beginning its waning cycle.


	2. Chapter 2: The Painted Lady

Chapter 2: The Painted Lady

The Legend of the Painted Lady has been told in the Fire Nation for generations. The actual origins of the Painted Lady is unknown. The elders said she was a deity from the Moon Spirit.

XxxXxxX

"Ok children," the Elder said, "remember the river is the source of this village. Respect it and it will provide life." The children nodded. They were restless. The sun was already high in the sky, and the breeze passing through the open door, just excited the children even more. The Elder sighed, "Alright, class is dis-," before the Elder even finished the sentence, the children scrambled past and through the door. Shrieks and laughter could be heard throughout the village as the children made their way to the river.

The adults looked at the laughing children, smiling to themselves, before returning to their tasks. The grandparents and the elders gathered at the Elder's hut to share a cup of spiced tea. Everyone absorbed in their activities did not notice the murky green liquid slowly making its way into the river.

XxxXxxX

"Elder! Elder," a panicked mother yelled. She rushed into the Elder's hut carrying a little boy. "He's been like this since lunch. I don't know what to do," she began to panic.

"One must be calm," the Elder began, "before anything else. Only nature can take its course." The Elder began to pour some water for the mother to give to the child. Just as she turned, a father came rushing in. He carried his daughter, with a frantic look on his face.

Before the moon even came out, it seemed the whole village was at the Elder's hut. Children bedridden with illness, parents concerned for their health impatiently pacing back and forth. The Elder looked up to the sky. The moon shone down, illuminating the village.

"Oh Moon Spirit," the Elder began, "if you are listening, please hear my plea. The children are dying," the Elder whispered. This was the first in the Elder's life, the Elder has seen so many fall sick, especially children. Of course, there were those who caught the occasional common cold, but the illness the Elder witnessed today was something much sinister. Much more deadly. The Elder looked behind her at her little hut filled with sick children and worried parents. She sighed a heavy sigh. She looked back up at the moon, hoping her prayer had reached the Moon Spirit.

XxxXxxX

A woman floated up the stairs, making her way to the giant gate sitting at the top. Her robes, a pearl white brushed against the stairs, barely touching, swaying like grass with a light breeze. The veils on the rim of her conical hat flew behind her, shining light onto her face. Her skin glowed with youth. She had red streak marks along her cheeks, highlighting her golden eyes. When she reached the top, she stopped to fix herself before entering the giant gate in front of her.

"Moon Spirit," she said. "The Village of Jang Hui River has sent a prayer." There was no response. The gate closed behind her. The room darkened.

"They have finally called for my help," a voice echoed, the room began to light up. "Painted Lady, I command you to help the Village of Jang Hui River overcome whatever hardship nature has bestowed upon them."

The Painted Lady's eyes widen. She pleaded, "Moon Spirit, with much respect, can you not send someone more qualified to help?" The room darkened to complete blackness. The voice spoke, this time, angered, "Do you question my decision?"

The Painted Lady quickly kneeled, "No your Moon Spiritness. I only want only the best to be sent down."

"Then you do not see yourself as one of the best?"

The Painted Lady did not respond, she stilled.

"Again, I command," the voice continued, "you to help the Village of Jang Hui River."

The Painted Lady stood up. Her face unreadable, her lips in a tight line. She nodded before whipping around. The gate opened and she walked out, without a bow.

XxxXxxX

The Elder walked along the dock. The village had finally gone to sleep, or what sleep each villager could muster. The night sky was clear, the air crisp but defeat apparent in the steps the Elder took was noticed. The Elder already had to perform three funerals. The children were becoming weak as the days came. The Elder sighed. The illness had started with only a few, but within the span of a few days the entire children populace was struck with the mysterious illness. The Elder was at their wits end. The last hope was praying to the Moon Spirit.

The Elder absorbed in the thoughts of the children, the Elder did not see the mist arise from the river. The Elder absorbed in the thoughts of the children did not see the woman walking upon the water. The Elder absorbed in the thoughts of the children did not sense the presence of the woman.

"Young one," the woman said. The Elder looked up in surprised, finally noticing the mist and the woman.

"Are you the one sending the prayers to the Moon Spirit?"

The Elder nodded, "But I am no young one," she responded. The woman laughed. Her laugh was beautiful. It was more beautiful than the song of a Nightingale Sparrow.

"Oh how naive," she said, "I am much older than you think I am." She floated past the Elder, towards the Elder's hut. Her robes, a pearl white touched the dock, it was as if she floated. The veils on the rim of her conical hat hid her face. It was as if the moon was shining light onto her, she was illuminated. _Is this the answer the Moon Spirit has sent down?_ The Elder thought before blackness took over.

XxxXxxX

The laughter of children could be heard. The Elder groaned. _The children are still sick. Why am I hearing laughter?_

"Quiet," someone said, "The Elder has awakened." The Elder groaned one more time before opening the Elder's eyes. The sun shone brightly. It seemed the whole village was in the hut. The laughter of children could be heard more distinctly.

"What happened," the Elder spoke.

"That's what we want to ask you," said a mother, "when we awoke, the children were already playing in the river."

The Elder looked perplexed, "The only thing I remember was talking to a young woman about age."

XxxXxxX

The Painted Lady watched the village come alive, as the children began to play and the adults busying themselves with the day's task. The Painted Lady watched the Elder's movements. It seemed as though the Elder was looking for something. The Elder began to walk away from the village, towards a remote part of the river. The Painted Lady grew curious, she floated down to the Elder.

"Are you not happy about the children," she asked. The Elder surprised, jumped.

"You," the Elder exclaimed, "you healed the children!"

The Painted Lady sighed before nodding.

"How...What...Who..." the Elder stuttered, trying to formulate a coherent sentence, "did the Moon Spirit send you?"

Again, she sighed before nodding. The Elder, lost for words, stared. It seemed like ages before the Elder finally began to speak.

"What...Who are you?"

The Painted Lady lifted up her veil, "That is for you to decide." The Painted Lady then created a mist, rising from the river. The mist became so thick the Elder could not see what was in front. As quickly as the mist rose, it vanished. Along with the vanishing mist, the Painted Lady disappeared. Those would be the only words she would ever say to a human.

The Painted Lady left the Elder. She smiled, her mist effect worked perfectly. She would remain a mystery, just the way she liked it. The children's laughter drew her towards the open meadow by the river. She stayed by the edge of the meadow, enjoying the sight of the laughing children. She smiled. Just then a child, holding a piece of bread, looked over to her. His eyes widen with awe. He ran towards her. The Painted Lady became puzzled. _This is strange, it seems as if the child can see me._

"Hi pretty lady!" the child said, flashing her a smile, "Who are you?" The child's eyes widen even more.

"What are those on your face? Is it ro-roug...Is it like the stuff my mom uses on her lips?" The Painted Lady smiled.

"Wow! Your smile is pretty! Just like mine!" the boy grinned. He had a gap between his two of his teeth. Signs of a new one growing was just showing itself in the gap.

"Here have this," the boy said as he handed her his bread. He held out his hand, offering her the bread. She looked from the bread to the boy and back again. _Is the boy really offering me his bread?_ Before she could take it, someone yelled,

"Lee! Who are you talking to? Hurry up or else you'll be left behind!"

The boy looked to the Painted Lady, "Here have this pretty lady," he handed her his bread before running to the other children.

The Painted Lady dumbstruck, just stood even long after the sun had set beyond the horizon.

XxxXxxX

"Painted Lady, you must return," the Moon Spirit said. The Painted Lady looked down at the village then back at the moon. She shook her head.

"I am truly sorry Moon Spirit," the Painted Lady said, "I cannot return to the Moon. I have become attached to the Village of Jang Hui River."

The Moon Spirit said nothing more. The Painted Lady looked back up into the sky. The moon had vanished. The night sky, once brightly light by the moon, now laid in darkness.

XxxXxxX

The night song of the Nightingale Sparrow suddenly Elder looked up to the sky. _That's strange, the moon just began to wax. Why is is a new moon already? _

The moon was gone, it seemed to have just disappeared. The night became completely silent. The wildlife seemed to have died. The Elder could feel the temperature drop. _This phenomenon is...Are the Spirits punishing us? _

XxxXxxX

"Please!" the Painted Lady begged, "return to the sky! Can you not see the village suffer?"

The Moon Spirit refused to answered.

"The darkness is scaring the children! Please! Please return!"

Still the Moon Spirit did not answer.

"I-I-I will return," the Painted Lady whispered.

"When?" asked the Moon Spirit, finally responding.

"I-I shall return when the Village of Jang Hui River pollute the river on their own."

"Remember your words," the Moon Spirit said.

XxxXxxX

The little boy cowered in the corner of the hut, scared. The animals, the demons, the bad spirits would get him if he moved. Silent tears streamed down his face. _Where did the moon go?_ he thought. He thought back to the pretty lady he'd seen last summer. _She was pretty. I wonder if I'll see her again? _Soon he drifted off to sleep.

He felt the temperature rise. The song of the Nightingale Sparrow lulled him awake. He blinked. He could see. _I can see! The moon's back! _He ran to the window. He stood on his tiptoes to see over the windowsill. He smiled. _It's the pretty lady! She's back! _

The pretty lady turned around. It seemed as though the lady was looking right at him. He saw her smile. Her smile was so pretty, he couldn't help but smile back. He was about to call out to her, when a mist from the river engulfed the pretty lady. He ran out the door, trying to catch up to the pretty lady. He was too late. By the time he stood where the lady was, she was gone. The mist retreating back to the river.

"Her name is the Painted Lady." The Elder said standing next to the boy. The boy looked up to the Elder.

"She was so pretty."

The Elder nodded.

XxxXxxX

The Legend of the Painted Lady has been told in the Fire Nation for generations. The actual origins of the Painted Lady is unknown. The elders said she was a deity from the Moon Spirit.

* * *

**Author's Notes [A/N]**

So what did you think of the first two chapters? They're really more like prologues, but I just wanted to flesh out these two character's background a little more.

Read it. Love it? Hate it? Let me know!


End file.
